


Leader of the Pillow Revolution

by JennaCupcakes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Babysitting, Fluff, Gen, Pillow Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 08:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/733616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaCupcakes/pseuds/JennaCupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never trust Enjolras and Grantaire with babysitting Gavroche - someone will start a revolution and things will get out of control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leader of the Pillow Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I'm sorry for what I did.
> 
> Author's Note: A little gift for my friend River who doesn't want to be associated with my writing. This hasn't been beta-read, so please point out mistakes you find. Apart from that, enjoy!

“Explain to me again why we’re doing this. “

“Because you can’t leave Gavroche alone for five minutes and his parents have the largest collections of rare wines I have ever seen.”

Grantaire was wearing a smirk, but Enjolras was still scowling, and his frown deepened when Grantaire mentioned the wine.

“You are not going to drink while you’re babysitting,” he scolded, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Grantaire sighed and leaned back on the bench they were sitting on. It was surprisingly mild for Paris so early in spring, and the sun was peeking out between the clouds. There were a few pigeons trotting on the gravel walk, and Grantaire was feeding them his leftover breakfast, half a baguette and a granola bar.

“You know, one day even you will have to learn to relax,” he remarked, still smirking, with a brief glance in the direction of Enjolras. The other man shook his head. “What makes you think I am not relaxed?”

“That stick up your arse, for once,” Grantaire replied, tossing another piece of bread at the pigeons. Enjolras was indeed sitting very straight, and he shifted unconsciously when Grantaire mentioned his stiff posture.

Grantaire laughed. “See?”

Enjolras glanced at him with disdain. “I have a feeling you are going to be more trouble to look after than Gavroche.”

– | –

The moment they had entered the house, Grantaire had launched himself onto the sofa, and had not gotten up since.

Enjolras had debated poking him while he was heating up a pizza for Gavroche, but had decided against it and instead sat down with his textbooks and essays at the kitchen table, sitting so that he could still see Grantaire in the living room from the corner of his eye. There were so many things to do for class, and sometimes he had to remind himself to not forget his studies over his political activism that Grantaire always mocked him for.

There was a noise from the sofa. “Spill the crumbs on his textbook, Gavroche!”

Enjolras made a noise of protest. “Grantaire, those textbooks are ridiculously overpriced, I would appreciate it if you--”

“Throw a napkin at him,” Grantaire advised.

Gavroche looked over at Grantaire, a hesitant expression on his face. “Well, he made me a pizza. Why should I be mean to him?”

Grantaire seemed to shrug – it was hard to tell, for from the way he had buried himself in blankets and pillows on the sofa, all they could see of him from the kitchen was his hair sticking up in all directions. “It’s fun,” he suggested.

Enjolras crossed his arms again, then made a motion with his head for Gavroche to come over. The boy jumped down from his chair and hopped over to Enjolras, a speck of tomato on his cheek. Enjolras leaned down, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Instead of playing pranks on me, how about we declare war on Mister Laziness over there?” he whispered. Gavroche’s eyes lit up, and his smile grew wider. “What do we do?”

Enjolras looked over to the sofas, pondering the materials available and deciding quickly. “A pillow fight.”

Gavroche jumped up and down excitedly. “Oh yes!”

“I can hear you conspiring,” called Grantaire half-heartedly.

Enjolras held a finger to his lips and signalled Gavroche to follow him. They tiptoed over into the living room to the second sofa, each of them grabbing two pillows. A hand raised into the air, Enjolras counted down from three.

Two.

One.

Grantaire made a grunting noise of surprise as four pillows hit him in quick succession. He sat up abruptly, glaring at Enjolras and Gavroche. “This means war.”

“We need more pillows!” shouted Gavroche, running over to Grantaire’s sofa to snatch away the pillows Grantaire had stacked up under his feet. Grantaire caught him halfway, grabbing the pillows with one hand and poking Gavroche’s side with the other until the boy was reduced to a heap of laughter and blond hair on the floor.

Enjolras decided to come to Gavroche’s aid, taking a pillow from behind Grantaire while he was busy tickling Gavroche and aiming a perfect blow at the back of his friend’s head.

Grantaire let go of Gavroche, spinning around to find Enjolras grinning at him proudly. “Long live the revolution!” called Enjolras and dodged a pillow aimed at him, jumping back to Gavroche.

“Quick, more pillows!” he ordered, “We have to build a barricade to defend ourselves!”

Grantaire was involuntarily helpful, aiming pillows at Enjolras’ stomach and another one at Gavroche’s shoulder, until they had a high stack of pillows in front of them. Enjolras pulled a blanket over them and they lay on their stomachs, Gavroche still giggling and Grantaire suddenly realising that he had run out of pillows.

“Damn you, Enjolras,” he muttered, turning around to check for more pillows and suddenly taking one to the head from Gavroche. He clutched his chest. “I am wounded!”

He sunk to the ground with an overly dramatic sigh, muttering, “ _You have defeated me_ ” weakly. Gavroche threw away the blanket and climbed on top of their stack of pillows, raising a fist into the air. “Victory!”

He high-fived Enjolras, then jumped down from the pillows and started dancing around Grantaire, sticking his tongue out at him. “Looser!”

Enjolras got up as well, dusting off his dark pants and smirking down at Grantaire, who opened one of his eyes in a comical expression and smiled back. “I bow down to you, oh great leader of pillow revolutions.”

Enjolras smacked him with a last pillow for good measure.

– | –

Later, when they had put Gavroche to bed, Enjolras took his textbooks to the sofa and continued studying there while Grantaire doodled idly on a napkin. From time to time, he looked over at Enjolras.

“What is it?” Enjolras asked after the third time, an exasperated sigh on his lips.

Grantaire laughed. “You’re a great leader for pillow revolutions.”

His tone was mocking but his smile was honest.

“Shut up.”

“You’re going to take over France with your impeccable pillow barricades.”

“ _Shut up_.”

“You’re going to liberate the oppressed with your perfect aim.”

“ _Shut. Up_.”

“And at the end of the day you will rest on the pillows of your defeated enemies like a true leader, and no one will ever be able to stop you.”

He started laughing, and Enjolras wanted to tell him to shut up again, but somehow ended up laughing along. Really, though, he did know how to have fun. 


End file.
